Fountain
by TheAUWalker
Summary: He didn't like her at first, but she grew on him. And at the end of it all, he didn't even care that his precious notebook was lying in the dirt. KyoyaxOC, one-shot, Christmas fic for a friend.


**A/N: This is a Christmas fic for my friend :D It's KyoyaxAkane(her OC).**

**I don't own Ouran High School Host Club.**

**Please review! X3**

-o-o-o

He didn't like her at first.

Kyoya loathed Akane Katsumi because on a Wednesday and had tripped and spilled tea all over his notebook, effectively ruining ten pages of carefully calculated irreplaceable data.

He remembered it vividly.

The young Otori son had been scribbling away, business as usual, not paying attention and shoving his glasses up his nose.

There was a bump in the rug and then a girl with straight brown hair and violet eyes was looking up at him from his chest, mortified, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

The tea slowly soaked the pages, and Kyoya backed away, beyond furious.

He shook out the pages in a vain effort to get the tea out and it had gotten all over his shirt as well, he was drenched in it.

Music Room number three was dead silent, all eyes on the crimson girl and the Shadow King.

Kyoya whirled on his heel and stalked away.

"I'm so sorry-" the girl whispered.

"Save it." Kyoya snapped.

She had followed him to the back of the room where he was trying to retrieve some of the data.

The girl, like everyone else, knew how important his notebook was to him.

Of course he knew who she was. Akane Katsumi, very serious student but could make a good laugh ring around the classroom. He knew exactly who she was but he chose not think about it.

"I'm so sorry." She started, again, desperate. "I-"

"I said, save it." Kyoya managed between gritted teeth.

He gave her a scathing glare, one that he was famous for, and ripped aside the curtain, yanking it shut in her face.

He did not see Akane Katsumi again for a long time.

-o-o-o

The notebook was vital to him. It was his daily planner and his plans for everything, everything, his notes and receipts and sketches.

Kyoya tossed the black object aside, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He knew Tamaki would be in to scold him in a minute for treating one of their 'princesses' that way, but Kyoya didn't care. Tamaki never got up the courage to surpass the famous glare and actually reprimand him.

Kyoya might have passed her in the halls, he might have brushed past her in the lunch line, but if he did he chose not to notice.

He was not one to simply drop a grudge.

The scolding words of his father were still settling down on his shoulders and Kyoya was not paying attention while navigating his ways through the Ouran halls.

It was rather ironic that this time it was him who bumped into someone.

Kyoya's hand automatically shot out to grab the girl's wrist and prevent her from falling, his other hand closing on the bag which had been flung from her shoulder.

He met her eyes.

Kyoya recognized the deep purple of the girl's eyes before she hurriedly pulled away.

"I apologize, Katsumi-san."

"It's fine, Otori-senpai."

He handed her back her bag.

She did not look up to meet his eyes again and moved to continue down the hallway.

"Wait."

He did not know why after he had just released her wrist his hand was snapping shut around it again, or why he was turning, the words spilling out.

"Katsumi-san. I'm sorry for my behavior lately, I haven't been myself lately and-"

She was staring at him, and Kyoya closed his mouth.

"I'm sorry." He said again, quietly, and then let go of her wrist.

-o-o-o

He knew her father.

Not personally, of course, but Kyoya knew the man.

Akane's father was not a nice person.

So when he was stalking around the school, looking for his daughter, drunk and dangerous, Kyoya's mind was fuzzy for a brief second.

Damn, he was getting slow. This 'love' thing was really shaking him up.

He grabbed Akane's wrist in the south courtyard by the fountain, just the two of them, and kissed her deeply.

Kyoya always got what he wanted, after all.

Her father walked right on by, and as the Otori's thoughts began to get scrambled again, not one thought about his notebook in the dirt crossed his mind.


End file.
